Fifteen Minutes in Mayhem
by OrangeInk101a
Summary: Life was to be taken seriously, especially more so when one dies. Rue lost her life in a car accident. But really, she could not predict that she would wake up as a young girl again-with one thing different from her precious childhood; she had blue skin. Almost like she had waltz straight out of a movie. A story of a young woman out to change the dangling fate of mutant society.
1. Blue

I didn't know how I ended up this way. But in my experience I've learned to just roll with the punches without question.

To sum it up, I was a quiet kid. Never really socializing with my peers, but fiercely loyal to the few friends I did manage to have. There was nothing abnormal about me, I loved to swim, I had a black belt in Krav Maga. I loved fencing and piano all through out my life. I went to college to get a degree in mechanical engineering throughout college.

I never finished that degree.

In the end I was just like a snowflake amoungst the drift, I faded into the world like a blank canvas forever forgotten. I-was nothing.

And I was oddly okay at that.

My life from before didn't really matter, not for this story. But neither I would I ever fully forget about it either.

That's where my story really begins.

My name is Rue and I died in the snow.

.

Then I was reborn in it.

Chapter One:

_"A little fire stirs the pool of blood"_

The first thing I noticed upon my awakening was that I was cold.

The second thing that registered was that I was hurt. I blinked my eyes heavily, each feeling like a hundred pounds of struggling pressure. I blearily looked around-I…I had gotten into a car accident, I had hit a patch of ice-slammed right into a tree. I sat up and looked around highly confused. It was dark-stretching my hand out I felt a bendable wall around me.

I was trapped in a cardboard box.

A little scared at what this might mean, I gently felt around till I pressed up on the lid and looked out. My entire body aching from the bitter winds and cold that swirled outside the thing. I shivered before peering outside just a tad-nothing-in fact nothing but a winding road.

_Did they steal my car?_ I wondered fuzzily.

I shifted and stood up, flexing my toes and fingers, but shielding most of my body in to keep it from the wind. _No_, I had thought, _someone kidnapped me-or drugged me-and either sold me or will try to kill me._

Looking back it seems a bit silly. But nothing could have come to a more severe shock when I looked down at my tiny blue hand.

_Yes_.

My hand was blue.

I blinked, _did I had some extreme case of hypothermia? Was I dying-or already dead? Because my hand was such a rich, midnight blue-_

Then I noticed how _tiny_ my said hand was.

It was like I had shrunken down to a child's size, so weird-almost…scaly. I briefly pondered that I had somehow arisen from the dead, but I wasn't to certain and didn't really feel any kind of cravings for human skulls. (Plus, the idea slightly scared me.)

Other than my lonesome morbid thoughts, I was so detached from the situation that I felt like _none_ of this was real. Like I was just in the 'in-between' or something. Even when I stood up in the box and discovered that I was stark naked-and yes, I was completely blue-it didn't feel all that real.

That was until the winds were grew so cold that a jolt of pain thrummed through me.

The most important thing: _I was alive._

After that all I registered was survival instincts. I needed to get moving-or else risk freezing to death. I dragged the cardboard box with me for when the winds picked up I'd roll it over my back for protection. _Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving._

The road I followed seemed to stretch forever-but I didn't notice-I was hypnotized by the way my feet seemed to fall upon the snow. It was blue-strange-exotic. Like something out of a movie.

I finally reached the point where I saw some lights through the village.

After reaching civilization I abandoned the box (dumb move, I reflected later) and had enough sense to scrambled next to a heater, rather than walk inside (wherever it was I had curled up) all nice and…blue.

I must've stayed there for hours, underneath a giant wooden porch slowly growing warm shivering out the tremors and goose bumps. People walked above me, chatting and talking while I listened. Sometimes I'd just fade out into unconsciousness and my vision would slip and spin.

All I knew that when I was fully aware of myself-it was day, it was not snowing, and I was hungry.

I didn't dare go out however, there were lots of people around me. I didn't want to risk being caught. So with my heart in my throat I waited till dusk and everyone went home for dinner before sneaking out.

It was that night I first discovered my gift.

"Melissa!" I gasped and hugged my body to a corner of an alley way, "Come on!" A man yelled and waved excitedly. A beautiful woman stepped out from a bar, wrapped head to toe in a fur coat, a cigarette hanging between her lips. I was struck with envy, she looked so warm and content. As she wrapped herself around her lover, she greeted him with a kiss, "Sorry to make you wait darling," She purred before linking her arm with his and walking down the street.

The next thing I _felt_ was this _urge_ to be her. Like I could be her-like I could just blend into the borders of her life.

The next thing I knew-I was much taller, and I was staring at a shocked expression of a mirror image of the woman in a dirty puddle next to me. The light from the bar flickered as I touched my face in awe, I prodded at it-everything-down to her slim nose- to her warm, comfy coats-it was all there. I blinked. I shrunk. I was a blue, little girl again. A blue little girl with piercing yellow eyes, fiery red hair and a scaly face.

I was more fascinated than anything.

I didn't really connect who I was then. I didn't connect at who or where I was to 'be' until many months later.

I just spent my time wandering and planning in bliss.

* * *

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hello, New installment that's been in my head awhile!

To clear this up, this is a self insert of a young oman who fell fom 'our' world into the X-men's-and woke up in the body of Raven Darkholme.

Believe it or not I actually have an somewhat legit explanation to how it all happened-but I've got that planned for much later.

Much, much later.

So, please! Tell me what you think of Rue!

Question of the Chapter:

What's you're favorite lunch?

_Answer: I have an unhealthy addiction to Vietnamese food, so probably Vietnamese with a bunch of rice noodles._

Preview of the Next Chapter:

"You are just like me." He gaped at my blue, scaly skin. "No," I said, "No, I'm not."

See you next time!

-OrangeInk


	2. Charles Xavier

Chapter Two:

_""Afoot and lighthearted I take to the open road, healthy, free, the world before me." _  
_**― Walt Whitman**_

I really didn't know who I was after that. But I had figured a few things out.

One, I had travelled back in time to the early 1900's. (How was this possible? I didn't know, but I just accepted it and rolled with the fact…After slight ventilation.)

Two, World War Two was just coming to a close. I was somewhere in America. (Thank heavens for small miracles.)

Three, there really was no place for a homeless child to thrive. Everyone had their own problems and couldn't be bothered with me.

So I took it upon myself to get a job, because I needed money-fast.

So once I had practiced my new shape shifting skill, I tentatively applied my skills at a pizza shop.

A white scrawny delivery boy who rolled out the dough, cleaned dishes, and mopped the floors. Only occasionally I delivered. (I would have to ride the bike they lent me the pizzas in front.) I honestly used my little 'gift' to fake my papers-and the rest was easy. I wasn't planning on staying there forever, just until I figured out what the hell I was going to do. I had no family, no friends, no real possessions. The only thing I had was a place to sleep (outside, under a porch) and a heater (which didn't belong to me.) But I kept my hopes up, because everyone needed to start somewhere-and I just rolled with it.

But sometimes, at night, I would cry silently for my loss. But I never let myself go further than fifteen minutes of pity-it was unhealthy.

My mother drilled this into me.

Fifteen minutes was my only time slot per day to feel any sort of sorry for myself. It helped too, placing my predicament far from my mind, and bringing just a bit of it back every day, my face pressed to the dirt and my tired body waiting for slumber to come after the water works.

Fifteen minutes.

What did I use for food? I stole from the kitchen. There were no cameras in the shop and I was a pro at picking locks. So I feasted every day in-between meals on sausage, rolls, and some stale fruit that lay scattered around.

I never really felt bad about stealing-it was either that, or my survival would suffer.

I picked my survival over any sort of sin or wrong doing.

My job was to deliver pizza to all sorts of different people. At their homes I observed their lives. I took in their cultures, their music, their dancing, their families. Everything had that early 1930's vibe, and there was hardly any technology I was used too.

The strangest part I must confess was the technology. So long I had relied on the wonderful uses of internet and computers and now they had typewriters and books. That's where I did my research, in disguise of course.

Course I posed question of what exactly I as doing here.

Somehow I had died, been reborn as an eight year old girl in the 1930's. Hell, my parents probably hadn't even been thought of yet, (and I wondered if I should search for my grand parents.)

"Miss?" I jerked back to look over my shoulder guiltily to the old wispy librarian man standing there. "Could I help you with anything?"

I nodded unsure, "Yes," My voice said, "I was wondering if you had any books about time-travel and reincarnation?"

The older man blinked, then smiled, "A bit of a fiction fan aren't you?"

I shrugged, "Spiritual and Scientific, actually."

He led me the ways to the sections I needed to the pitiful sections of fiction and spiritual when the door bell ringed.

"Mr. Martin?" A woman's voice called out questioningly in the big library, "Oh! Over here, Mrs. Xavier!" He sent me an apologetic look, "I'm sorry, but she often brings her son here so I can watch him for the work day." I nodded dumbly wishing he would just get up an leave already, Xavier, almost like King Arthur, my mind muttered before turning my attention on the books.

The old man hobbled out to greet his new guests, as I sank to the floor, five books already in arms to read.

"Charles!" I jerked my head up at the exclamation of loud surprise, "What are you doing!" The woman's voice called. I looked from my book to the end of my aisle to see a skinny brunette boy standing there looking at me like I had three heads. Panicked, I looked down at my skin-nope, still pink-what was he starring at?

I shifted nervously, and tried to ignore his presence.

Weird, little kids.

"H-Hello," He said almost breathlessly, his floppy brown hair flipping into his blue eyes.

I raised a brow, "Hello son, could I do something for you?" I raised a bushy blond brow curiously, trying to force some kindness into my voice.

A woman marched into the picture, "I'm sorry," She turned and apologized to me. "That's alright!" I waved my hand quickly, unoffended, but she was already glaring into the eyes of her son.

"Charles, go sit down in the children's section and wait for your tutors or else we are going straight home and you can spend the day in your room." The blond lady reprimanded.

He seemed to shake himself out of his strange stupor, "Yes mother," He said obediently with one last glance at me, he was gone.

I didn't really think about it till I left the library later, ("Do you want a library card?" The old man had asked, "Does it cost?" I wondered, "Yes, twenty cents.") Twenty cents was a lot in the time. Five cents could buy you a few pieces of candy. Thirty could buy me a sandwich.

I handed the money over to him happily, books right now were more important than food. I had to do something anyways other than support myself, or else I'd go stir crazy just thinking about my situation. I needed information, especially on the 'modern times' in the early 1900's. I bustled out of there, happy but unnerved, for I still felt a set of childlike eyes on me.

I didn't make the connection until later that night.

Xavier.

Charles.

_Xavier_?

As in X-men,_ Charles Xavier_?

Suddenly I started connecting some dots that night.

I decided to lock myself in the public restaurant of a bar (drinking ages at that time were also down, so I passed for nineteen.) I slowly transformed back into my blue self.

This was my new reality. Spent constantly hiding in plain sight.

Blue skin, yellow eyes, red hair.

It was like I had been a blank canvas before someone scribbled all over it.

But in a way I thought it was beautiful to be unique-something that I had carried from my past life. At the same time I feared what other would think of me. Especially in this time period. Perhaps in the 2000 people were more at liberty to accept things, but in the 1930's I knew that they had a strict culture, you had to be a certain way, or not be at all. Perhaps my friends WOULD have accepted me for my blue skin, in fact maybe then some people might have thought me exotic, or at least accept me for who I was. Or perhaps some government would snatch me up and I'd get tossed in a lab. Perhaps I would have been a spy. I truly didn't know.

But now that I had somehow winded up in the past I doubt many people at all would see me for me. I doubt I'd get hired for anything but a circus and maybe some pornography.

Roll with the punches.

I just happened to look like a child-like Mystique from X-men Comics.

I also just happened to have her power (mutation?) to transform into anyone at will.

I also just happened to be in Westchester, New York State.

Okay, breathe.

I just happened to meet a kid named Charles Xavier with a rich mother.

Well, it would have certainly explain a lot if I was. Even though it was an impossible conclusion. Why was I here? How did I get here?

Then it would mean that kid I had met earlier was a flipping telepath-who just discovered he wasn't the only freak around. If he was the real-honest to god-Professor X.

In the 1930's I wasn't even sure X-men had been even drafted, I didn't read much of the comics. But I knew the time line couldn't possibly explain that everything that just happened back there was just some X-men mother fanatic who just happened to name her son after a powerful telepath from a comic series.

Unless she was a seer and a die hard fan.

It would also explain the child's disbelieving expression of me in the library.

I groaned an rubbed my blue forehead, verdamnit, this was all messed up. I suddenly understood now why it was a little disconcerting to have someone in your thoughts-it wasn't private anymore.

This was too big to wild of a conclusion, I needed to focus on my survival above all else, and my future. That was my priority. Not the question of if I was reborn as some villainous mutant from a comic. (Though, I had only really watched the movies. I didn't really think I'd need to read any comics, it wasn't as if I was going to reborn as Mystique or something, right? Ha-ha.)

Ridiculous. My mind laughed. I was going bonkers-crazy! As a result from my grief and long nights without a bed. I shifted back to my normal form and slipped out of the bar, heading towards my nest. I sighed and shifted back to my blue form in the shadows, crouching down and crawling my way into my burrow.

It was only then I heard a scuffing noise was when I felt a pang of fear. I crawled under the hole in the porch, watching with wide, yellow eyes as a shadow moved around. Some damn animal had waltzed straight into my lair and damn if I was going to let it stay.

The trick was that I had to be quiet.

It was a slow night for the bar, but it didn't mean someone would be able to hear two creatures fighting beneath their feet.

"H-Hello?" A voice wobbled in the dark, the creatures paws shifting around confusedly.

I hissed some other street rat was down here with me? This was my territory, "What are you doing here?" I whispered fiercely.

"I-I u-uh.." The boy stuttered, "I w-was looking for you-after you left the library."

I leaned back, suddenly scared. Someone had been following me.

Wait.

I was in my blue form, but I had been relying on night to cloak my form. What if he saw it and reported it to the police?

Wait.

"I don't know you. I wasn't at any library today." I was in a different form, he wouldn't recognize me. So, I'd be a different person. I grafted my skin pink subtly.

"Yes you were!" The child said diligently.

"What are you doing here? Why did you follow me?" I shot for a poor attempt to cover up my own prepubescent voice.

"Well…I'm like you."

I snorted, amused. "No you're not." I hissed at the shadow. "Get out!"

No, I am like you. His voice licked my mind as I jumped, I followed your memories here. I thought I was alone till I felt your mind in the library pouring over how you are genetically blue and what you were going to steal from the pizza parlor for dinner tonight.

I jerked and hit my head on the roof of the small space.

A telepath? Then, damn it looks like I might've been right. But I asked him suspiciously, "But why did you follow me?" Childlike curiosity? Different or not, I trusted no one.

The boy was quiet for a few moments, "Because you're also alone."

We both fell into silence contemplating our situation.

"Charles Xavier, right?" I wondered aloud.

"Yeah, and your name is Rue Blackthorn…" I raised a brow, "Got that from my mind did you?"

"I'm sorry, it was terribly rude." He apologized. "But I got so curious I just had to meet you." He said earnestly.

"How much do you know about me?" I asked sharply.

Charles shadow seemed to sigh in the dark, "A lot." He admitted, "But a lot of your memories are locked firmly behind some wall I can't get over."

I breathed out in relief. I would need to avoid any thoughts of my past life around him, and possibly, any about the X-men.

"Why do you stay here?" Charles asked me curiously.

I crawled out and offered my hand down to him, "What do you mean?"

"You could break into houses-or sneak into other places of sleep, yet you stay here. Why?"

I shrugged, "It's warm, there's no way anyone could really discover my if I'm quiet, and it's out of sight." And it is better to go with something I actually recognize than some strange bad technology I don't.

"Would you like to come home with me?" He wondered nervously shifting around on his feet, placing his hand in mine and crawling out. His hand was larger than mine-but also a whole deal warmer.

"No." I said softly as an answer to his question, because there was nothing more I hated than relying on anyone.

I was no charity case.

"You're not a charity case!" He protested against my thoughts.

I shifted, "Stop reading my mind." I ordered. But softened a second later, "But thank you for the offer."

We both climbed out of the hole and walked a small distance, for privacy. He was following my lead to a small grove of trees.

I cleared my throat, "I'd appreciate it if you kept my existence a secret."

The boy nodded, "I'd appreciate it if you were my friend."

I blinked slowly, "No promises." I drawled.

But the boy smiled.

He probably knew that was my stubborn way of giving some sort of small consent.

The days flew past and Charles and I started to meet up a lot. For a young boy he was quite bright and energetic, and I felt myself drawn into his cheery chatter as a break from the continuous dull of work. Sometimes we'd just run around in his yard-his mother was only home in the mornings-and came back late at night. We played a lot of tag, and when Charles went to his lessons, I dragged my feet to my little job at the pizza parlor. The money I made was often stuffed into a rusted metal tin I had found a while earlier.

Fifty dollars. Fifty dollars in cash, after meal prices. (I sometimes DID buy a meal, had to keep up appearances.)

But more often than not I would crept into Charles room late at night and just messed around with him, telling stories, jumping on the bed, or just having a good time talking. Charles wasn't like most kids. He was understanding-a little too eager, too curious, but also sly and cunning. It was refreshing and I loved being around it. It was like I was secretly indulging in the childhood I had once missed buried in my books. (I was an avid reader when I was a child, often forsaking play to read.)

I must have snuck into Charles bed a million times after that night, he had his room moved to be right under the fire escape.

Was it strange to sleep next to a telepathic child? Not really, I didn't find it creepy at all since I was already mothering him with my maternal skills. The only thing strange about it was that sometimes he projected his dreams and more often than not we winded up sharing them.

Each night was different, but it always ended the same as we prepared to fall asleep he tried to convince me to move in with him.

"Please Rue! You sleep here every night anyway-" I looked away guiltily, "-you won't have to steal again"

"I'm not stealing anymore, I'm paying." I reminded him. He raised a brow coyly, "And eating my kitchen out of my home." He added slyly.

I gritted my teeth, "I almost got enough money for my own apartment. Then I won't have to rely on your pity." It was true, I had decided to plant my roots here to stay with my little telepathic friend.

"It's not pity. You're my friend. Besides, what are you going to do about your education?" Charles asked innocently. Knowing that I constantly rolled over in agony about it in my sleep.

"As soon as I forge my birth certificate I'm going to college." Like hell I was going through high school again.

"Other schooling?"

"Already have it. I'll just pass an placement-entrance exam, tell them I lost all my papers in the war when my home was burned down."

"You will leave me then." I looked at Charles forlorn face and patted his shoulder. "Ah, but I'll stay in New York and visit you often."

He growled lightly at me, "You should just let me adopt you." He tried.

I shook my head, "Independent remember?" I smirked at him.

"More like wholly stubborn." He muttered.

"Exactly," I chortled, "Now do you really want that of a _little_ sister?" I was older than him period, but in my blue form I appeared a few years younger.

"Yes." He said resolute, climbing into bed with his blue pin-stripe pajamas. He laid back an stared at the ceiling, "Where are you going to get the money?" He wondered.

"I'll borrow it."

"From where?" He sat up, "You have no documents, nothing! The bank wouldn't support you!"

"Forgery, remember?"

"Are you going to always rely on illegal activity when you need something?"

"No, that's why I'm doing this."

"Just let me adopt you." He said exasperated, "You practically live here anyway, no one's going to look farther than a few adoptance letters."

"But then I'm going to have to wait years for schooling-and you haven't even talked to your mother about this, have you?"

"She wouldn't care."

We both fell silent, "Charles, yes she would." I said softly.

"No she wouldn't." He said bitterly, "Too in love with partying and her second husband."

I cuddled into his chest as he stroked my red hair softly, "You are my only friend." He whispered and squeezed my fingers.

"I promise I won't be the last." I muttered in his ear, "You are a nice boy Charles Xavier, and you're smart and charming, and you have the world at your fingertips. You have a bright future ahead of you."

"But what about you?"

I squeezed his hand back, "I'll find my way." I promised.

All was silent for a while as we both stared up into the abyss of the ceiling.

"Goodnight Rue," He whispered and I smiled, just a bit, "Goodnight my friend,"

And I fell asleep marveling at just how much I'd come to trust this little boy with a big heart in just a span of a year.

* * *

Hello friends, this will be the next chapter out for awhile. I hope you all enjoyed it.

I took a bit of a risk here, introducing Charles so early, in such a manner. And don't ask me why Charles went to a public library if his palace has a library itself. If his mother throws parties what other way to get your kid out of the house?

Thank you all.

Question of the Chapter:

If you had **one** power, what would it be?

Preview:

_I was the best spy they had ever seen, not that they'd ever admit it aloud, but from the sheer success of my on field work record was anything to go by, I smashed all their records. I could interrogate without torture, and morph into any personality. I could stand out, I could become invisible. There was no cage I could not squeeze out of, no bars that could hold me back. I could speak multiple languages and fight in different styles. I was the perfect Agent. But the only thing that held me back was the fact that I was a woman. _


End file.
